The Dropped Puffapod Bean
by NoSecretsHere
Summary: When Hermione finds herself crying in the greenhouses, she wants to die of embarrassment. A friend just had to catch her in her one weak true girly moment. Surprisingly though some good may come out of the embarrassing situation.


Author's Note: A cute little fluffy one shot for this underrated ship. This is also my assignment for Herbology class.

It is in fact a Hurt/Comfort

Includes a first

I chose to mention: The Puffapod.

Hope you all enjoy it ^_^

Disclaimer: You recognize it, I don't own it.

/

Hermione brought her knees to her chest burying her head into them.

Merlin, she was supposed to be better than this. She was Hermione bloody Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age. Hermione Granger did not cry over the fact she hadn't been asked to the ball yet in empty greenhouses.

Sadly though that was exactly what she was doing. It was all Ron's fault. Ron with his long insulting speeches about how only the most pathetic girls were left now without dates. Ron with his oblivious tone when he asked why she looked ready to murder him.

Basically if only the killing curse wasn't unforgivable and a one way ticket to Azkaban. Ronald Weasley wasn't worth incarceration.

CREAK!

Hermione snapped her head up. There were no classes today, so there was no reason for anyone to be at the greenhouses. Unless it was another dateless girl with a dense friend in need of a place to cry that is.

A figure stepped into view, and Hermione bit back a moan.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Neville asked worriedly.

Neville. It had to be bloody Neville. One of her housemates and friends. Perhaps it would be better to use the killing curse on herself. Put her out of this embarrassment and misery.

"Of course Neville. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" Hermione replied. She stood up and brushed off her jeans.

"Well you're crying," Neville pointed at the tears still silently streaming down her face.

Hermione's eyes widened as she frantically brushed away her tears. Why oh why had she come here to cry. Actually better yet.

"What are you doing here? There aren't any classes today," Hermione questioned leaning against one of the tables.

Neville turned bright red and shuffled his feet.

"Professor Sprout took me on as an apprentice this year. I'm supposed to come and check on all the plants," Neville muttered.

"Oh Neville that's amazing! You do realize most teacher apprentices are seventh years! To be one as a fourth year is incredibly rare. In fact according to Hogwarts: A History the last one was in the forties!" Hermione gasped.

Even she hadn't been offered to be an apprentice, yet.

"Blimey Hermione. You really know everything don't you? Well my grandma is proud. Says I'm finally living up to my potential or something like that," Neville continued to blush.

Hermione though suddenly felt sad again. Perhaps that was why she never got asked to the ball. All she did was sprout off random facts. Not that she would change that about herself, no boy was worth lowering her intelligence.

"Hermione are you sure you're okay? You look sad again. Besides you never said what you were doing in the greenhouses," Neville asked.

Hermione sighed. Out of all the boys in her year, Neville was tied with Harry for the sweetest. If she was going to tell anyone why she was upset, he was the best option.

"You can tell me you know. I won't tell anyone else," Neville encouraged her as if knowing she was having an internal debate with herself.

"Ron's a complete and utter prat," She finally blurted.

Neville bit his lip for a second before chuckling quietly.

"Everyone knows that," he told her. Hermione watched him as he leaned over one of the plants to look at it.

"Yes well, he's been an even bigger prat lately with the ball coming up. Do you need any help with that?" Hermione offered walking around to stand next to him.

"What's he been saying? No I'm alright here. If you don't mind helping though can you pick the beans of that Puffapod over there," Neville motioned to the plant on the other side of him.

Hermione nodded absent-mindlessly and grabbed one of the special boxes for the beans. It kept them levitating so they wouldn't bloom before they were needed.

"Well he has gone on about how only the ugly pathetic girls are left now without a date for days now," Hermione explained.

With careful steady hands she began to pluck the shining beans from the Puffapod. Something she hadn't done since first year if she remembered correctly.

"Why would that bother you so much you were crying?" Neville asked.

"I wasn't crying...I was...well it doesn't matter. Anyway because I am one of those ugly pathetic girls left without a date," Hermione's voice lowered from defensive to almost a whisper.

It was embarrassing to admit that she was affected by something like that. After all she was known for being the smart girl who didn't care about boys or appearances like her dorm mates.

She heard the clank of a tool hitting the tabletop and turned around. Neville looked absolutely shocked. His eyes were wide and his mouth hanging open.

"You don't?" He choked out.

"No. No I don't," Hermione confessed, turning back towards the Puffapod.

Wh-Why not?" Hermione heard Neville stutter.

Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes blurring her vision. That was the question he had asked herself over and over.

"I guess it's because some boys are just intimidated my intelligence. I'm rather plain too and don't really pay attention to my appearance," Hermione tried to sound nonchalant.

It hurt knowing you weren't liked. She may be a smart girl, but at the end of the day she was still a girl. A girl whose feelings were hurt.

"Hermione...well you see..." Neville began pausing excessively.

"What Neville?" Hermione asked. She plucked off the last bean of the Puffapod and studied it close to her face.

"I've meant to ask you, but was sure you already had a date. Now though I was wondering if you'd like to go to the ball with me?" Neville managed to get through the two sentences without pauses or stuttering.

POP!

The Puffapod bean hit the floor and bloomed instantly. Hermione had dropped it in complete shock at Neville's words.

Did he seriously just ask her to the ball?

"I'm sorry. What did you ask?" Hermione stared at him now. Perhaps she had heard him wrong.

"Oh...I..uh...asked if you would like to go to the ball with me," Neville repeated his ears bright red.

Was she really that scary that he looked absolutely terrified about what she might say?

"I'd be delighted to Neville," Hermione answered with a smile. She placed a calming hand on his arm.

The action made him jerk and look at her in surprise. It was obvious that wasn't the answer that she had expected.

"Really?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes really," Hermione laughed. The earlier tears that had stained her cheeks were now dry.

"Wow...I've never asked out a girl before you know. I didn't expect you to say yes," Neville confessed.

"To be honest...this is the first time I've been asked out myself," Hermione informed him. She looked down in slight embarrassment when she noticed the bloomed Puffapod bean.

"Oh my! I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, bending down and picking up the bloomed bean.

"It's alright. It's just one after all," Neville brushed off her apologies.

Hermione plopped the bloomed bean into her pocket with a small smile.

"Best not let Professor Sprout see one bloomed," Hermione laughed shutting the box with the rest of the Puffapod beans.

"Well then...what else do you need help with?" Hermione smiled.

"Uhh just gotta check on these Umbrella flowers," Neville answered motioning to the flower box. He turned to check their roots and such while Hermione studied the back of his head.

Neville was a dear friend. He was one of the sweetest boys she had ever met. She was rather lucky to have Neville as a date for the ball. It was a given that she wouldn't be one of those heartbroken crying girls at the end of the night.

Hermione grinned to herself. Perhaps crying in the greenhouse hadn't been so bad a decision after all.

/

Author's Note: Favorite and review please. Thanks for taking the time to read my story.


End file.
